The Death Of A Star
Chapter One I feel my heart beating. Beating. Beating. I feel the blood pumping through my veins as I experience the rush for the first time— the rush of flight. My first flight, alongside my beloved sister, my beloved Faery. My laughs filling the sky, just like the gentle glow we emit. We are stars. We all are. We soar for hours and hours, until we finally touch the sky. The air gets thinner and thinner, we float back down. Back to the Mantis Hive. We touch down gently on the roof gardens, our laughs filling the air once more. My mother stands there, a proud smile on her face. We run in for a hug. "That was awesome, Tiger!" Faery shouts, her huge smile widening to the point she looks ready to explode. I grip Mother tightly, a strange feeling washing over me. As if I'll never hug her again. Icy needles prick the back of my neck. What if I won't? My traitorous mind whispers. I shove down the morbid thought. No. Just no. I am pulled back to the present by Faery's yell. "Motheeeer? Can we go to Sugar House? Pleeeeease?" Peacock nods. "Fine, Fae. But be good." "No promises!" We all chuckle, and I glide down the the next level. "Come on!" We laugh and laugh, swinging, gliding and climbing down the papery Treestuff. Finally, we reach the marketplace. Making our way inside is a challenge in itself, but navigating through the bustling crowd is even harder. As we shove through, I hear shouts and screams. I hear "AHHH!" "HELP!" AND "GUARDS!", but also "LEAFWING!" The chant replicates, and suddenly all of us are screaming about green dragons. And then I hear it. A scream cut off, choked. By a vine. I scream, and we all turn, and… run straight in to another LeafWing. Who grins evilly. "This is for Queen Sequoia," the lime green dragon hisses in a masculine voice. And. Stabs. My. Mother. I shriek, then leap at the criminal with out thinking. I beat him with my wings, and rake my claws over his eyes. Then I stab him. It is Faery's turn to shriek, and I realize what I did. I killed someone. That can never be undone. ---- The next few days are a blur. Dragons congratulate me, talk to me, care about me. But Faery is still horrified. And mother is still on the brink of death. I can't think of what to do, for I fear I'll do it wrong. Our family is organizing a funeral, but I can't bare to think she might really be gone soon. They say she's holding steady, but… I feel like they aren't. I cry myself to sleep now, something I fear I will have to get used to. I begin to write in my diary, the place I store all my strongest emotions. December Ninth Mother still hasn't woken, and I feel like she never will. What if she doesn't? I don't think Faery can handle it. I— I don't think I ''I can handle it. And if she does, where will I go? Will I follow her, or will I bear the pain? I- I'm not sure if the world wants me. But what would it do to Faery if I left? It's like I have two weapons in front of me. THe dagger and the flame. A quick death that would crush everyone I know and love, or descent into a haze of pain and insanity? If I make-'' A knock on the door. I close the small leather-bound book and quietly call, "Come in!" A doctor shuffles in, with Faery close behind. I can't read their expressions, but they don't seem happy. Then the possibility floats through my mind. I try to shove it down, but I can't. I don't want to say it, but I start. "Is- is she...?" The word catches in my throat. I can't bear to say it, but I have always known I would have to some day. So I let the one, small, painful word slip out of my mouth. "Dead?" The silver doctor nods once- an insignificant little gesture. One that brings the world crashing down on me. "Tiger..." Fae whispers, "Mother is dead." Chapter Two I scream. It seems valid enough. The tears stream down my face, and I don't care when Faery leaps forward to give me one of her bone-crushing sympathy hugs. The doctor strokes my head, and I curl into a ball and hug my legs. I barely notice the doctor draping a warm grey blanket over me, and continue to stroke my head. I lean into Fae, who whispers encouragement to me. I don't get how she can be so okay with it. I'm her older sister. I'm not supposed to be the one breaking down, I'm the one supposed to be comforting her. I should be taking charge, but I can't bring myself to stand up. All time, noise, and surroundings melt into a haze of color, pain and cacophony. I don't know when, but I weep myself to uncomfortable sleep. Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Semi-Canon) Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Genre (Tragedy) Category:Mature Content Category:Content (Droplet the seawing)